


To Sin in Loving Virtue

by hobiimin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, rating might change to explicit in the future but for now it is mature
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobiimin/pseuds/hobiimin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She ran as quickly as she could, not caring if the woman heard her, all she cared about was being back inside the ballroom, back to her party and away from those blue eyes that would forever be burned into her memory as she replayed what she had just experienced again and again in her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Sin in Loving Virtue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphireBlueJiyuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/gifts), [cerberus_angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerberus_angel/gifts).



The first time she saw him was in a room full of people, all dressed their best, all there to welcome his younger sister, Sansa, into the eye of the public on the night of her eighteenth birthday. As she stood beside her brother Tommen, gazing up at the Stark family as Ned Stark thanked them all for coming, she imagined she would never see someone as handsome as Robb Stark ever again. He was polished, a man of twenty-two meant to take up the reigns of his father's business, with his red curls groomed perfectly and a **wild** , dangerous look in his eye. She herself was only fifteen at the time, still growing into the body that she wished every night would grow similar to her mother's perfect figure. As Sansa Stark smiled at her guests, Myrcella suddenly felt her insecurities closing in on her. She hoped for grace, for beauty, for the effortless glow that seemed to follow Sansa everywhere. Myrcella shook her head at her thoughts, she is beautiful, no woman in neither her mother's or father's gene pools had ever been deemed anything lower than lovely and although she was a merely a girl, one day she would be a woman and men like Robb Stark would be vying, no _fighting_ for her attention.

Her gaze shifted to Robb Stark again, he was currently seated a table with the Greyjoy heir and his brother, a pretty brunette pawing at him in a suggestive manner. She watched the way in which the woman moved, how Robb's eyes followed her hips and she suddenly felt flushed, felt a pulse between her legs at the fantasy that Robb may look at her with such desire in his eyes. When she dared to stray from the scene her eyes caught an unfamiliar brown, Jon Stark raised a brow at her as their eyes locked and Myrcella quickly turned away, her face red from shame.

She quickly immersed herself in the abundance of people around her, desperate to flee from Jon Stark's gaze. _'What an embarrassment!'_ , She thought as she quickly made her way towards the table where she saw her uncle Jaime. The Golden man was in the middle of a conversation with her grandfather Tywin, her mother no where in sight and Myrcella sighed in relief that neither she nor her grandmother Joanna were there to question her about the state of her face. Her mother would have a heart attack if she ever knew of her daughter's secret craving for the Stark heir. He was too wild, to free, to much of everything that Myrcella had only ever dreamed about being. Her mother and her friends would sometimes mention him at their private gatherings, not knowing that Myrcella was listening all the while, and whisper about his behavior, about how he, The bastard and Theon Greyjoy frequented out of the country, about his affair with Jeyne Westerling while Roslin Frey waited dutifully for him to place a band around her finger, about the savage animals that littered the Stark estate. With each story, each adventure, she found Robb Stark even more fascinating. He was out living, while she stayed trapped inside her gilded cage. Pacing back and forth like a restless wild cat waiting to break free. He was a guilty pleasure that she hid from the world, from her strict mother and her seemingly lost father, she even kept it from her uncle Renly whom had seen and partaken in his fair share of scandal along side Robb Stark.

When she dared to look over where she had last seen him he was no longer there. She felt a chill run up her spine as she noticed the absence of the brunette woman as well. She felt eyes watching her again and she knew they were not the shocking blue that she craved but brown, dark like Ned Stark's. She held her head high as she turned to meet his stare and she did not waver even though the surprise in Jon Stark's eyes were evident. After a moment of staring he finally gave a small nod of his head, what this meant she did not know but as Robb rejoined their table, a playful smirk curling on his lips Jon sent her one of his own and she carefully turned away from him, a flush creeping up her neck and the soft fabric of her dress clutched in her hand.

Perhaps there was one other person who knew of her fascination after all.

* * *

At seventeen she was finally allowed to join her mother at her private gatherings. She would be seated between Margaery Tyrell and her mother as she sipped delicately at her tea, the tasty lemon cake before her untouched lest her mother decide to scold her at home about indulging herself to meaningless carbs. However she did not care for she would silently listen as the women around her spewed gossip onto her lap. "Oh, haven't you heard?" They would giggle, pretty mouths hidden behind gloved hands as they mentioned his name, his brother, his family. "He finally left the Westerling girl! But mind you not without taking her virtue!" Sometimes Theon Greyjoy would run from their lips. "He gambled away one of his father's ships!" One would exclaim as they all practiced a rehearsed gasp at such news-Though she supposed it was quite scandalous, considering The Greyjoy's were known far and wide for their vast range of ships, be it a yacht or a cruise liner- And as time passed and Margaery Tyrell and her mother had seemingly disappeared from their gatherings, her name would drift into the conversation. "That girl," her mother would click her tongue disapprovingly. "Whoring herself around like a common prostitute. Her mother should have kept a better eye on her." The ladies would say nothing but nod their heads in agreement.

Sometimes she found herself wondering if Margery had found her way into Robb's bed and her face would turn crimson at her vulgarity. Yet the image of Robb watching that women flaunt her self at him, his blue eyes primal and dark with lust; she wondered if he had gazed upon Margaery in such a fashion.

She would not know until her eighteen birthday.

Her father had spared no expense, "My only daughter deserves only what is fit for a princess," He would grin at her as her uncle Stannis complained about the expense of such a party. The ballroom was decorated beautifully, glass and chandeliers hung from the ceiling, Lannister red and Baratheon gold covered the room-she was now positive it was from her grandmother's vision- and her crimson dress was tasteful as it clung to the shape she had finally filled out, the roundness of her hips and the curves of her breasts. She had grown to be just as beautiful as her mother, as her grandmother, as any Baratheon woman before her time and she reveled in the peace she found at having hundreds admiring her. She was Myrcella Baratheon, a princess in her own right, and the world would either learn to love her or fear her as she chose to conquer it, just as her father had not so long ago.

She was swept from guest to guest, her blonde tresses flowing behind her as she thanked them for their presence and the variety of gifts they had surely brought with them to impress her father. At one point her uncle Tyrion had stopped her, leading her to circle of men, one of which she had only seen in passing. Willas Tyrell smiled at her kindly, kissing her hand in greeting as she joined them. "It is a pleasure, Miss Baratheon." She smiled at his actions and shook her head softly, her hair moving with her. "No need for such pleasantries. My name is Myrcella, you may use it." He said nothing but nodded, a smile still on his lips as the man beside him gave a grunt. She turned to him just as Willas prepared to speak. "This is my good friend, Oberyn Martell." The man gave her a grin, it unnerved her a bit, the way his eyes loomed over her form, not sexually but as if he was appraising her, looking for a flaw, a dysfunction, a weakness so that he may use it against her. She was not ignorant to her grandfather's history with some other families of the elite and the name Martell certainly sent warning bells off in her head but she smiled up at the tall man, meeting his dark stare head on. She was now a woman, and if her mother had taught her anything it was that a woman was not to be trifled with.

After a moment the man spoke, his voice deep and sensual in way that was both threatening and tempting. "Eighteen years have treated most fondly, Miss Myrcella." He said his eyes roaming over her again but not over her body, over her face, as if he was looking at a new species, a new soul. "I am sure there is not a man here that does not wish to ask your father for your hand."

At this her uncle Tyrion spoke up, his voice warm and teasing. "Of course, my dear niece is much too sunning for just any man."

"You are both too kind. I am flattered, truly." She gave a rehearsed giggle at their words.

"No need to be flattered by the truth." A new voice joined the conversation and Myrcella turned to see the new gentleman. He was tall, his hair dark as midnight and his eyes a warm chocolate brown, he bore a striking resemblance to Oberyn and she knew right away he was a Martell.

"Aww nephew, I see you were able to escape your siblings." Oberyn chuckled as the boy stepped further into the circle, his arm brushing momentarily against her own as he situated himself beside her. "Where did you leave them?"

The boy scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "My brother quickly found himself lost at the bar with his friends and sweet Arienne has found another mouse to play with." At his words he suddenly closed his mouth tight, turning to Myrcella with a flush of his cheeks. "Forgive me, I should not have said that so bluntly, it is rude of me to be so crass in the presence of a lady."

She felt a warmness spread through her at his embarrassment. "No harm done," she laughed as she reached over to pat his arm fondly. "I am still standing as you can see."

She removed her hand and his mouth opened and closed in flourish as if he debated on saying something. Before he could speak Oberyn's gruff voice broke in. "She hasn't have all night boy, introduce youself."

The boy snapped to attention, his cheeks still flushed as he quickly took her small hand and gave it a quick kiss. "Forgive me Miss Baratheon, my name is Trystane Martell."  
"Myrcella."

"I-What?"

She smiled. "I have allowed everyone to call me by Myrcella, that being said I hope that I might be allowed to call you Trystane." She saw a look of surprise run across Willas' face in her peripheral vision and she ignored her mother's voice in her head that spat at her for being so bold.

"I-uhm.. you may call me whatever you like, Myrcella." His smile was wide, his olive skin still flushed with nerves but his eyes bright and she found his eagerness infectious.

The brightness of his eyes reminded her of Robb.

* * *

After their introduction Oberyn and her uncle had been quick to shove them towards the dance floor, and she laughed sweetly as he whispered something about bastard uncle who never minds his own business, he swept her into his arms, his body an appropriate distance from her own and twirled her around the floor, her red dress and blonde curls flowing behind her as others watched in envy. When she was young her uncle Jaime and uncle Renly would argue over who would be the one to tell her bedtime stories-her brother Tommen would always grumble unhappily when she would chose Renly, for everyone knew that Jaime's stories were filled with action and adventure but Renly's stories were about love and princess's with ruby red lips and hair long enough to scale any tower- she had clung to those stories, to the notion that one day she would find a prince who would take her away and they would live happily ever after. Once she had grown and had seen that even women as beautiful as her mother-her grandmother was perhaps the exception but she had found happiness with a man as cold as her grandfather-were doomed to never find a man to sweep them off their feet and most instead settle and made due with the cards life has handed them. Yet as Trystane whispered playful words into her ear she found that she rather liked the light touch of his hand as he held her own and his other on her waist. She supposed settling was not as disastrous as she had first feared. Of course she was getting ahead of herself, she had barely met the boy for gods sake! And her grandfather would never allow a Martell into the fold, she was sure of that.

_He is equally unlikely to allow a Stark into their fold as well_

She shook her head at that thought. How stupid! She had never spoken with Robb stark, yet she could never seem to let go of the idea of him. How handsome he is, how free he seemed. She was barely a woman and he was a man. She could not entertain the idea of ever having anything with him, especially with her brother around. She supposed she had misspoken for it seemed Tywin Lannister would allow a Stark into their fold after all, as long as it was a female. It was no secret that her older brother Joffrey was courting Sansa Stark, and she would have felt sorry for the girl had she not looked so adoringly at her brother. Joffrey was a sham of a man and it surprised her that Ned Stark would even allow his daughter to be wooed by him. Though it was most likely her father's doing.

She suddenly felt lightheaded, remembering that she had not eaten all night-too nervous from the preparations of her big night and her mother's watchful eye hovering over her- she slowly removed herself from Trystane grasp, telling him she needed a breath of fresh air. He was quick to ask if she would like company but she declined, finding she did her best relaxing on her own.

The ballroom had a beautiful garden, complete with several large fountains spread among the yard and lights hung from tree to brighten the view and create a heavenly sight. Myrcella had just sat down at the nearest fountain, dipping the tips of her fingers into the cold water when she heard a sound. She turned her head to see a gazebo, it was just far enough that the dim lighting allowed her to see two dark figures and nothing more. One of the figures had the other pressed against a pillar in the gazebo and having heard the moan that left one of them she instantly knew what they were doing. How disgusting! Did they have no shame! This was a family a event, her birthday! She had young, impressionable children running around these grounds and whoever they were, they found it prudent to relieve themselves in a garden where anyone could stumble upon them. She had half the mind to go find security and have them escorted out in whatever condition they were in when the next sound sent a chill down her spine.

"Oh, Robb!"

Myrcella instantly paled. 'Gods no, not today', she thought as she unconsciously found herself moving closer to the gazebo, the horrible sounds ringing louder and louder in her ears. Before long she could see them clearly, the girl herself was not stunning but she was pretty but Robb himself was a different matter, his shirts was undone and the woman's hands where underneath it, one hand leaving marks on his marble like chest and the other buried in his copper red curls. He was all over her, her dress undone to the the point that it pooled around her waist and her breasts were free to the open air,-Myrcella tried not to feel inadequate as she noticed that they surpassed hers in size- he was moving, kissing and touching her, his mouth planted firmly against her neck as he grinded his lower half against her. The woman squealed in pleasure, more moans and expletives leaving her lips as she rode him. Myrcella clenched her thighs against each other as a throbbing started between her legs.

A part of her knew what she was doing was wrong, she shouldn't be watching them, she shouldn't be there. Yet there she stood, her feet seemingly frozen as the woman continued to mewl like a kitten as Robb moved against her, inside her. It wasn't till he looked over the woman's shoulder that he saw her. Myrcella wished the world could swallow her whole, devour her as Robb's brow crinkled in confusion. She expected him to yell, to shout, to pull himself away from the woman and scream at her for watching them as if she was some sick, old man looking for kicks. What he did instead shook her to her core. He winked at her, a teasing smile curling at his lips as his movements increased in pace, Myrcella felt as if her body was on fire as if he was doing all of that to her instead. Robb continued to watch her as he licked, kissed and nipped at the woman's skin, her wanton shouts getting louder as she neared her peak. It wasn't until Robb had finally released that Myrcella felt all the air return to her lungs, the feeling return in her legs and the sensitivity between her legs ache to be cared to. His eyes never left hers as he spent himself inside the other woman, a masculine grunt leaving his lips and sending a pulse through Myrcella's core. She wished desperately to touch him, to have him touch her.

She ran instead.

She ran as quickly as she could, not caring if the woman heard her, all she cared about was being back inside the ballroom, back to her party and away from those blue eyes that would forever be burned into her memory as she replayed what she had just experienced again and again in her head.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost this story is dedicated to Jan and Gera because they are my darling ladies who love and adore Robbcella just as much as I do! And we also cry and have heart attacks over our emotions. Lots of Love!
> 
> So this is something I've been debating over and over again in my head because I wasn't sure if I was up to the challenge of writing a well crafted smutathon in one fic. I have always felt that there needed to be more smut in the Robbcella fandom so here is my contribution. I apologize if it's atrocious! Although this is not my first time writing smut, it is my first time writing a story that I plan to have so heavily filled with smut and sexual tension and etc. So hopefully as the plot furthers along, my writing will improve with it!(wishful thinking) 
> 
> So let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!


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